


At the sunset, every wild rose dies

by weeping_ice



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 08:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeping_ice/pseuds/weeping_ice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for the <a href="http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com/"></a><b>spn_reversebang</b>. Every castle has a story, often a tragic one. Jensen is the prince of the kingdom, fiancé to the lady of a near dukedom and Jared is a stable boy that wants to become a knight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the sunset, every wild rose dies

**Art Prompt Title:** [I would advise you to keep your distance](http://spnreversemod.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/1998/79334)  
 **Art link:** [Art Masterlist](http://amindaya.livejournal.com/16125.html)  
 **Prompt Number:** 3013  
 **Artist:**[](http://amindaya.livejournal.com/profile)[ **amindaya**](http://amindaya.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fic Title:** At the sunset, every wild rose dies  
 **Author:** [](http://weeping-ice.livejournal.com/profile)[**weeping_ice**](http://weeping-ice.livejournal.com/)  
 **Beta:** [](http://gusx217.livejournal.com/profile)[**gusx217**](http://gusx217.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom/Genre:** Supernatural RPS  
 **Pairing(s):** Jared/Jensen  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Word count:** 5028  
 **Warnings:** death character, slash  
 **Summary:** written for the [](http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com/profile)[**spn_reversebang**](http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com/). Every castle has a story, often a tragic one. Jensen is the prince of the kingdom, fiancé to the lady of a near dukedom and Jared is a stable boy that wants to become a knight.

 

  
The castle was beautiful, full of life, flowers and colours, nestled on the tallest hill of the valley. In the past few weeks, groups of knights and nobles crossed the drawbridge, bringing gifts, gold coins and copper for the upcoming marriage.  
« I don't want to marry him! »  
Well, if they could convince the princess.  
Jensen ran after his sister, avoiding a page and his precious tray full of crystal glasses. The morning had been long and hard and the hunt in the afternoon seemed to be exhausting and boring, with all the little talks of the old ladies and the political discussions of their father. He was sure he could survive all that, if he didn’t kill that little spoiled harpy.  
« Please, Genevrieve »  
« No, brother » said the girl, entering in her rooms. « I'm not going marry that ogre ».  
« You said you loved him ».  
« That was before I found him with his mother’s maid» she shouted, breaking a crystal pot. Lilies and petunias fell on the floor and on the rug. « That old ugly bitch... »  
« Genevrieve... »  
« She is twice his age » cried the girl, letting herself fall on the chair. Her long blond hair hid her face. « Why did he do something like that? Why can’t he be like... like you, brother? » she sobbed, tearing apart the few flowers that had survived her fury with her hands.  
« Me? »  
« Yes, you ». The gardens and the terraces were full of people, busy with the preparations for the upcoming wedding. « You are so kind and you aren't one of those men, always busy catching the maid in the stables ».  
He felt himself blushing. His sister didn't know, but, when he was young, he used to go to the stables to meet a knight: he was brave, strong and handsome and all the ladies in the castle adored him and offered themselves to him. Jensen loved the man, but his father forbade those meetings: he was the prince and the heir to the kingdom, he couldn’t be involved in such unnatural behaviour against God.  
Sometimes, when he was alone in his bedrooms or riding his white horse, he missed that man and his strong, big hands. In those moments, all he wanted was to forget the knight and their meetings, maybe between the rosy and soft thighs of a beautiful maid... but this was his sister’s moment, her wedding to the noble man that their father chose for his little princess.  
Sighing, Jensen knelt in front of the chair. His sword scratched the precious wood, reflecting the bright colours of the stained glass windows in a motley colours patchwork. « Genevrieve, I know you are scared and all you want is to run away » he said, caressing her cheek. « But you are a princess, as beautiful and kind a lady as was our beloved mother, and now our kingdom needs this truce and the alliance with the dukedom of Lakeheart ».  
Exactly as their father said a month ago, when he proposed his firstborn to his old friend in return for one hundred men in this war. Selling his flesh and blood for gold and lands, this is a king's destiny.  
Genevrieve raised her head, looking at his hair, lightened by the mild September sun. « So you are gonna marry Lady Isabelle? » she said, between the laughs. « You know, between you two, you are gonna be the pretty one ».  
And it wasn't a kind joke, but the truth was Jensen was a very appealing person. God, their father always said that, if he had had a daughter like Jensen, he wouldn't have trouble finding her a noble and rich husband.  
Jensen smiled at his sister. « I'm always the handsome one, little sister ».  
And that was a fact between them. They stayed silent for a little time, listening to the noises in the garden. The stable boys were bringing out the horses and the best dogs for the fox hunt while the blacksmiths were shoeing and preparing the animals. The gardeners were singing filthy songs heard in the inn while they were at work on the roses and the apple trees and the maid laughed at their jokes while the pages took trays full of food, wine and delicacies.  
The afternoon was coming to an end; the nobles were approaching the grand staircase in a blaze of colour silks and velvets, surrounded by the tinkling of their blades and heels.  
Genevrieve ran to the wardrobe and chose one of her most lavish dresses, a blue garment with a golden waist. « I don't like these hunts » she busted out. « I would rather stay here ».  
And Jensen couldn't disagree with her: if he could, he'd rather ride to the river or to the church to assist at the political affairs and cheats of his father.  
When the maids entered with the linens, Genevrieve ran behind the screen of lacquered wood « You must hurry, brother » she shouted, throwing her blue dress to him. « You don't want to keep your lady waiting ».  
A loud knock interrupted their jokes and Sir Jim, the councillor, entered the room. « Prince Jensens » he said slowly, staying at the door and never looking at the young lady almost undressed behind the screen. « I'm sorry to interrupt your meeting, but your father, the king, asked for you. If you would follow me, you can find him in the tower with the new soldiers ».  
« Oh, for the love of God. Jensen, take this old idiot away and see what our father wants» screamed Genevrieve, taking a pink dress and calling for her maid to help her.  
The young prince sighed and followed the man. His rich dark green cloak swished as he went upstairs and walked through the arches of sculpted stones where knights, old kings and wild beasts watched them with their furious and eternal looks.  
When he was a child he couldn't look at them without scaring himself and feeling guilty for his big sins.  
« Please, Jensen. This way ».  
He was an old friend of his father, his companion in so many battle and war meetings, always a kind and comforting presence in his childhood, almost like a second father, especially when his mother died.  
Jensen quickened his steps, following Sir Jim in the fresco painted halls. Hunting and dancing scenes surrounded them with their brilliant colours. « Sir Jim, please, do you know what my father wants? »  
« Don't ask me, young prince » sighed the man, looking at the distant mountains. In other days, they battled for their kingdom in these lands, far away from their homes, wives and children. « Don't ask me, I don't know what you father thinks anymore ».  
« If you ever knew it, dear friend of mine ».  
The king stood in front of them, looking at his son and his councillor. His bushy beard hid tightened lips. He was angry, Jensen hadn't doubts about this.  
« Father... »  
« Walk with me, son ».  
The imperative voice was so familiar, but Jensen shivered. His father wasn't angry, he was furious.  
The guards came to attention at their passage and the maids hid the fruit and vegetables baskets. The rich coat of his father shined in the mild spring sun and the two lions on his ring looked each other in such animal fury  
«Answer me Jensen, why have you not already proposed to Lady Isabelle? »  
« Father... »  
The king raised his hand, demanding his silence. The old man was looking at the park where the peasants were bringing the most beautiful and juiciest fruits for the hunt and the party. « Yesterday I explained your situation to the Lakeheart ambassadors » the king said, tensing slowly. « I don't think they can stand such an affront much longer ».  
The meaning of such an event hung heavy between them. Their relations with the near dukedom were so tense that the peasants and merchants didn't dare to cross the forest between their properties even for a small deal, leaving for the richest bargain in the fairs.  
Jensen knew too well what that meant: war, another terrible cruel war. Their people were so tired from the previous one and from the famine of the previous year, they couldn't stand another tragic event.  
The king looked at him. « You are young, my son, so young and too gentle for a warrior, but one day you'll be a king » he stated. The wind blew, flowing between the trees in the park; autumn was so close, and after that the dark and harsh winter. « I hope you'll be a wise king, and you must know a king has duties: he must always do what is good for his reign ».  
« I understand, father ».  
« So, my son, I hope you'll be wise to court Lady Isabelle tonight » he finished, going down the donjon. When the last part of his red cloak disappeared, Jensen leaned against the stone wall closing his eyes.  
The gardens were so full of life and voices and the guards marched through the curtained hallways, watching what was happening around the castle and the people coming in.  
God, he was so screwed.

 

 

 

« My lord, I don't think this is a good idea ».  
Jensen gave the squire a dirty look, putting the canoe in the water. The wood rang with the trumpets and the bark of the dogs, behind them the knights and the nobles shouted and laughed.  
« Listen Misha, I want to stay away from that crow ».  
And from Lady Isabelle’s kisses, he'd wanted to add, but after all he was a prince a gentleman, raised to be kind and respectful of all ladies, the unbearable ones too. Sometimes it was really hard be chivalrous as his father desired.  
The afternoon was warm and windy and the river flowed slowly and calmly between the cane thickets and the muddy banks. When he was a kid he loved to sit with his mother near the bank, catching frogs and picking flowers, and now that she passed away the slow stream of the water calmed him.  
The young prince lowered his head, caressing his mother's locket. « I can't stay there, I need a little time alone ».  
« I understand, my lord, but... »  
« I'll be back soon. Don’t tell my father where I went » he shouted, jumping in the canoe and pushing off.  
The river flowed slowly under him and Jensen shipped the oars, going with the tide, focusing on the clouds and the sounds all around him. The day was so beautiful and warm that Jensen decided to untie his vest and lower the puffy sleeves.  
« Hey, be careful ».  
Jensen tried to compose himself and unsheathe his sword. In front of him, a man with poor clothes was stopping the canoe, looking directly in his eyes.  
« Who are you... »  
« You can't go on » the stranger calmly explained, as if he was talking to a five year old kid. « You will pass in the robbers' territory. And, trust me, such a pretty little thing like you doesn’t want to be near such beasts ».  
Jensen blushed violently. « How dare you... » he stuttered. « You don't know who I am... »  
« A beautiful, rich » added the stranger, looking at his clothes. The young prince tried to cover himself more. « Very rich gentleman. Am I wrong, Prince Jensen? »  
« How do you... »  
The stranger laughed, stopping the canoe with his boot. « Your father knows you better than you think ».  
« Really? »  
« He sent me here to wait for you » he responded, shrugging his shoulders. « I think that's a good point, after all ».  
« And you'd be? »  
The stranger took Jensen's hand in his. « I'm Jared Padalecki » he murmured, kissing the white knuckle. For this gesture Jensen wanted only to beat him. « I'm the younger son of your farrier and I work in the stable ».  
« So you're a stable boy ».  
« At this moment » admitted Jared, lowering his head. « Well, you see... I'll be a knight, some day, but now I work in the stable ».  
They stayed silent for a little moment, until Jensen burst out laughing. The prince sheathed his sword before he dried a tear. « My apologies» he said, trying to hold back his laugh. « I don't want to be rude, but I never heard of a stable boy appointed knight ».  
Jared looked at him as if he had just spit on a precious manuscript from the abbey. « You'll see. One day I'll protect you in a battle » he declared, jumping on the canoe. « Maybe we'll be in Jerusalem to find the Holy Grail or the Holy Sepulchre and an infidel will try to kill you» he was so agitated that Jensen was worried that he would turn over the canoe or give him a punch in the eye. «And maybe I will find a beautiful and sweet princess to save, kiss and marry ».  
« I don't suggest that » said Jensen, watching the woods. The hunters and the nobles were almost at the river and he only wanted to escape. « A princess can be a real bother ».  
« And a prince? »  
Jensen looked at the boy lying on the ground. In a moment Jared's head rested in his lap and long, brown and ruffled hair covered his hose, while two big puppy eyes looked at him. The prince found himself smiling. « I think a prince can be tender ».  
« You think so? »  
« Prince Jensen! »  
The two men turned together. Sir Jim and Misha stood on the banks, watching the scene in disbelief and anger, looking at the stable boy and at his poor and worn clothing.  
The two boys knew the punishment for such an insult.  
« You, little... »  
« Sir Jim, please ».  
The old man watched the young prince. He looked like he was possessed by some evil madness. Sir Jim shook his head and turned his horse.  
« Prince Jensen, please, your father is waiting ».  
Jensen looked one last time at Jared, before getting out of the canoe and running after the man.  
« Sir Jim, I can explain... »  
« Stay away from that boy, my prince » he ordered, slowing the horse and coming abreast of him. Behind them Misha was following the pair carrying the weapons. « I don't like him. As my father taught me, a man underselling his duties isn't a real man » he finished, loosening the rein of the white horse from the apple tree and giving it to Jensen.  
The beast was restless from having been tied. Jensen tried to calm it down with soft touches and words.  
« What do you mean? »  
« Your father promised him a great amount of gold to follow you and I'm certain Lord Golwin gave him gold to tempt you ». Sir Jim was keeping his gaze downcast and blushing and Jensen considered he wasn't with no bearing on this thing. « The boy has been doing this for the last three months. He followed you every moment, even the most private, I suppose ».  
And that was too much. Jensen’s look hardened and the prince stretched his lips in a hard line. His eyes darkened like the sea in a tempest, it was so rare to see him angry that few people survived such a sight.  
« So this wasn't an accident after all ».  
« I'm afraid no, my prince ».  
He nodded and looked furiously at the stable boy still on the canoe. The younger man was embarrassed, well beyond other things, and he tried to explain, but the sight of the prince on his white horse was so scary and beautiful that he couldn't find words. Now he knew why the knights, when they were sure nobody could hear them, called him the deadly angel.  
The forest behind him was deadly dark and silent, even the sun seemed to be hiding from the foliage. « I hope you laughed enough, sir, 'cause that was the last time you fool me ».  
Having said that, he spurred his mount into a gallop, leaving the three men behind him.

 

« My lord, if you would consider... »  
Jensen threw his belt, unbuttoning his red shirt, while the golden waistcoat lay neglected on the chair near the massive wooden door. The hunt was a total failure and Lady Isabelle accepted Sir Sheppard's invitation for the party that night. His father was so angry.  
Tired, he let himself fall on the bed. Over him the green canopy was interwoven with gold threads and decorated with silver roses and mythological animals. His mother wanted that fabric and the tapestries for his bedroom.  
« Misha... »  
« That boy wasn't so bad » he insisted, as he had been doing all afternoon. « Well, he was under your father's orders to follow you... »  
« And committed acts against Our Lord and the crown ».  
« Well, we can discuss that, but he wasn't so bad ». For a moment the man looked at him, right in the eyes as he knew more than he wanted to say. « He looks like Sir Morgan a lot, right? »  
« Misha... »  
« You never truly forgot him. Right, my lord? »  
And Jensen knew he was right. Despite his father, his orders and his duties as a prince, he never truly forgot that knight and the caresses he gave, hidden behind the horses and the hay; he was the only person he kissed.  
In the painted hall under them the nobles and the ladies danced to the sounds of flutes, while the king and the feoffees were discussing the war and the new fiefs between the mountain and the river.  
In one of them, under a peach tree and among the jonquil, the corpse of Sir Morgan was laying, unburied and eaten by the worms and the rats, as any mean thief on the gallows. Jensen had never said goodbye.  
The prince looked at the ring on his finger. It was of Sir Morgan, his last gift, probably his only gift.  
« Yes, they are so similar ».  
Misha shook his head, kneeling in front of him and taking his hands. « Someone wants to meet you tonight, my lord. At midnight at the river, right behind the old mill ».  
And saying that, he exited the room, leaving the prince with all his doubts.  
When the big hall clock struck half past eleven, the young man rose from the bed and started to run, passing the guards and the full hall with all its colours and sounds and laughs until he went out the main door, running in the deserted park and in the country, following the river.  
The night was so cold and starry and his steps rang on the hard ground and the damp grass. After what seemed like hours, the old mills stood impressive and gloomy.  
« I was starting to think you’d never come ».  
The young prince almost jumped. On the millwheel stood the stable boy in the same worn clothes of the afternoon.  
« And I'm starting to think you're plotting with my enemies for the throne ».  
Jared laughed and jumped from the millwheel. « Trust me, if one day I'd want the throne, I'll court you » he whispered, coming near. For a peasant, he thought, the stable boy had an elegant and manly walk.  
« You think so? »  
« Off course » Jared stated, touching his cheek. «I'll make you fall in love with me, my prince ».  
Jensen laughed at that innocent and naughty glimpse. That boy had the look of the new puppies his father used to bring every year to the castle for Christmas and he looked so excited and happy to make him smile. « This is madness... »  
The stable boy, Jared, smiled. His lips were within an ace of the prince’s. « Off course it is » he whispered, lightly kissing the man in front of him. His hands went to Jensen's back, moving in slow, calming circles. « All of this is really madness. From your father’s order to this moment and to me, falling and lusting for you ».  
« When? »  
Jared grinned. « Days ago at the lake, my lord. » he said, unbuttoning his shirt. « You have a nice body, for a man ».  
That wasn't the first time Jensen heard this, he practiced with the grossest knights, he knew what they thought: the future king looked like a maid, instead of a hero of old ages. Nothing new for him.  
The cold wind caressed his skin as the stable boy took off his shirt, beginning to kiss and bite and lick every single point of his body, every single freckle, like he was following an old road to some treasure and Jensen shivered, clawing and scratching his shoulder. For a boy, that one had nice, broad shoulders, ones seemed good to lift even him.  
Jared's tongue followed an old scar on his neck, a memory of his first practise with the sword as a child, as he pressed the prince against a tree, caressing his leg through the soft material of his trousers.  
« I would like to see you again » he begged, kissing his chest. « Tomorrow evening, after the vespers, at the church? »  
Jensen smiled at the stable boy and nodded. He wouldn't have had to go, but the night was so beautiful and the moon so bright, as the smile of that boy, he couldn't say no.

 

 

 

The evening was so calm and warm. After the long ride threw the country, the forest and near the river, the two men let themselves fall on the ground near the church and stayed there, tired.  
The marriage with lady Isabelle was so near and Jensen didn't know what to do. He wanted so much to stay with Jared, but Father Adam was right: he had to grow up and tranquillizer his responsibility as a king and as a man.  
« Who gave you this? »  
Jensen looked at Jared’s hand on his chest. Between his fingers, the man fiddled around the golden locket he always wears.  
« It was my mother's » he said, watching those fingers caressing the precious stone. It was amazing how such a big person could be so delicate and kind, but most of the time Jared seemed more like an overgrown excited puppy than a big, scary and dangerous man. « The day she died, she gave me this locket so she could live with me forever. It was her favorite piece of jewelry. ».  
Jensen stopped for a moment, looking at the sky. The reds and oranges of the sunset were beautiful in that corner of the country and the colours suited Jared so well: his hair seemed almost like precious copper and his golden skin resembled the old gods that he saw in the old mosaics and fresco paintings.  
« I don't wanna go back ».  
« Than don't go »  
In a moment, Jensen found himself laying under Jared. The other man was biting and kissing his neck, while he undressed him. « Stay with me, my lord » he growled against his skin. « Come with me to the Holy Land or for another adventure ».  
And Jensen wanted only to say yes. He wanted so much to forget his place as prince and future king and go and stay with Jared forever. He wanted that so much could feel it in his heart and bones.  
« And where can we go? »  
His grin was so contagious that Jensen laughed, closing his eyes for a moment against the sunset. When he opened them, Jared was almost naked, his cock hard against his belly. If he wasn't so turned on, Jensen would probably blush or challenge the man for such an affront to the holiness of the crown.  
« Everywhere you want, my lord » he whispered, kissing his lips lightly. « Holy Land, France, even Italy or Egypt, there aren't limits for us ».  
« Well well, what have we here ».  
This can't be true, thought Jensen, almost crying. This was only a nightmare and soon he would wake up in his bed, ready for a ride.  
Jensen looked up, right behind Jared. His father and a group of guards surrounded them, the halberd directed at their hearts and revulsion clearly visible in their eyes.  
The prince tried to rise, looking at his parent. « Father, please ».  
The king stood silent, looking disgusted at the couple. His only son and heir lying on a haycock, barely covered with his tunic, while on top of him one of the stable boys had his trousers open and his cock out, too near to his son's lips to be decent.  
« Father, it isn't as you think ».  
« Shut up, Jensen » he shouted, coming near the two. Angry and barely in control, he whipped Jared, kicking him unrepentantly. « You dishonoured my son and your father. And you » he continued. Jared never spoke, looking all the time at Jensen, searching for a kind word. « You evil child » he added, pointing at his son. « You dishonoured our family and me. Because of you our kingdom will go to war » he shouted. His eyes were cold and full of hatred and Jensen almost cried to see his father, the same man that took him to his first ride or played with him in front of the fire while the queen, his beautiful mother, embroidered and smiled.  
In a moment the king tore the locket off the prince's neck, leaving a red mark. He looked for a moment at the jewel, before putting it in his pocket.  
« Bring them to the tower » he ordered the guards. It was a cloudy day and soon it would rain.« I've something special in my mind for them ».

 

 

 

« So this is the story of the castle ».  
« Such a beautiful, but sad story for this place. What do you think, darling? »  
« It is so romantic. So the prince and his stable boy died in the tower? »  
The man put away the contract, before looking at the stairs that go in the tower. « So the legend says. The king walled them up in the prince's bedroom before killing the horses » he mumbled, collecting his things. « But in all these years nobody found that room, so I think this is only a story for scaring children ».  
« So you don't think the ghosts... »  
« Ghosts are only fantasy. Good night my friends ».  
And that night, when the clock in the square struck midnight, the young couple left their bedroom and went up in the tower. At the end of the stairs, where in the afternoon there was a thick wall, now there was a wooden door.  
They entered the bedroom and climbed on the luxury bed. The red and gold blankets and the wolf's skins still cover the nuptial bed, as they did so many years ago.  
« Jensen ».  
Panting, the man caressed the girl’s hips and covered her. Her hair seemed almost blond in the pail moonlight. « My god, my prince ».  
« I know » she sobbed, kissing his lips. « I missed you too, missed you so much » she added, hugging him tight and pulling him to her chest.  
And now they were here. As so many centuries ago, Jared the stable boy and Prince Jensen were in that room, together.  
At the door, a group of knights and a man watched the scene. His red eyes burned with hatred and disgust, while a young girl rushed in the corridor. « Father, please... »  
« Close the door and wall them up » he shouted. Immediately the men started to bring up the wall, brick after brick, closing the door, their only way to escape.  
They'd had to stop, but a strange force kept them in the bed. All they wanted was to kiss and stay there, while the last bricks covered those angry and scary red eyes and the sneer of that man. An evil laugh echoed in the castle and the rumble of the knight's steps slowly vanished in the night.  
When they pulled themselves together, behind the door there was the thick wall again. The girl started crying as she saw the room: the curtains and the covers were ripped, while the floor was covered in bones of men and women of different ages. On the bed, under a green canopy, interwoven with gold threads and decorated with silver roses and mythological animals, two big skeletons lay hugging, as they had let themselves die like this.  
In the park, right under the tower, the notary was cleaning his glasses when the young girl screamed. Another couple was in the tower, for that year the spirits of the two unhappy lovers would stay in the castle and the king wouldn’t nag the people in town.  
Maybe for that year the spirits would even rest in peace, he thought, collecting the bags of the couple and bringing them to his car. In a couple of days he'd get the bus driver to dispose of them in the ravine and the castle would be offered for sale again, as his father did before him.  
  



End file.
